The summer I lived on the ranch, Grandpa found newborn mice in the wall. When he'd pulled apart the insulation and uncovered a writhing ball of sealed eyelids, wormy tails, and thin, naked skin, full-body NOPE hit me so hard that I ran out of the barn.

Uncovering that nest was about the most disgusting thing that had ever happened to me. Until now.

Because now I knew what it felt like to be the house.

The human soulshine that made itself at home in my chest felt about the size of a mouse pup. Wiggled like one too.

I put my head between my knees and breathed through the weird. I'd never fainted before, but I swear everything was about to go black.

Dixon dropped the deer head and steadied himself against the wall. "I knew it," he laughed between breaths. "You are a mage."

It took a minute to pull myself together enough to talk. "That wasn't me."

"Well, it sure wasn't me." Dixon helped me off the floor and rested his hand on my arm. "Wow. You're shaking."

My knees were so weak I was surprised I could even stand on my own.

The zombie was poofed. That strange inner light shining out of the crate beside him had gone out. The room was cool, dark, and quiet again. But my knees were so weak I was surprised I could even stand on my own.

Grandpa only had one rule—don't summon people. And I just kidnapped a human soul from the Good Place. Or freed one from the Bad Place. Hard to tell which sin was darker.

My throat tightened and tears welled up in my eyes. If I'd just stayed in the exhibits—

"Ah, don't cry." The ice in Dixon's voice surprised me. Like I'd ruined the fun. "Everything turned out fine, didn't it? I mean, things got a little crazier than I expected, but—"

Wait. "Than you expected?"

He shut his mouth. Too late.

"Oh my gosh." I squinted, trying to bring him into focus through the tears. "You lured me in here."

"First of all, you asked—"

"Shut it." A hundred degrees of anger burned my eyes dry. "Don't twist this. You knew this would happen."

He held up a finger to clarify. "I knew something would happen."

One of the crates in the room squeaked.

Dixon and I both went silent. And in the quiet, I could hear somebody breathing.

My hot blood ran cold. The human soulshine in me pulsed, like it sensed a friend nearby.

Dixon pulled his phone like a six shooter and spotlighted the two coffin-sized crates at the center of the room.

The box my zombie broke out of had tipped over on its side. A sea of Styrofoam had spilled out on the floor.

The second crate—the one that, just a minute ago, lit up from the inside with strange, blinding light—was wide open. Its lid lay on the ground. And a trail of stray packing peanuts tracked toward the door.

My heart flash-froze. Dropped like a rock.

I had one human soul poofed and locked. But in all the chaos, I didn't realize—

"There are two," I whispered.

The door swung open—briefly blinded me—and slammed shut.

"It's making a break for it." I ran for the door, cracked my shin on one of the crates, tripped over another, and burst out of the storage room.

A trail of packing peanuts led down the hall and past the security desk, toward the door to the outside, which was swinging shut.

I broke into a sprint. Banged through the exit into hot high noon.

Nobody there.

I ran past the loading dock, hurdled some landscaping, and screeched to a stop in the middle of the mostly-empty parking lot.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

After spinning three full circles, I had to face the facts.

I hadn't pulled one person out of the afterlife. I'd raised two.

And I just lost the second one.

I buried my hands in my hair, heart hammering in my throat. "I am in so much trouble."

If I was ever going to drop an F word worse than frick, now was the time. But Sunday was six days away, and I already had so much to beg forgiveness for.

Dixon plodded up behind me and doubled over to catch his breath. "What was that?"

"You . . ." I turned to face him, rumbling like a pot about to boil over. From the second I walked in, he'd been weirdly interested in me—and the first thing he did was offer to show me those fossils. "What did you see?"

"I don't know. Some short guy? It was dark."

The simmering hot water I was holding in spilled over my edges and hissed. "Before," I snapped. "In my future."

He must've seen the look in my eyes because he raised his hands like I might hit him. "Nothing that wasn't going to happen anyway."

"Liar. You spent all morning trying to get me into the quarantine closet. You saw something."

"You and those new fossils were leaning toward each other hard. I haven't gotten a forecast like that since my uncle introduced us to his girlfriend, and now they're married." He shrugged. "I thought I'd, y'know, give you a little push."

"A little push? Like straight off a cliff?" Now I was stuck with this human soulshine till death do us part. And the one who got away . . . I couldn't even think about him right now. "Why would you do this to me? Don't the mages in your family have rules?"

He laughed. "Rules?"

The way he said that like a punchline made me take a step back. "My life is ruined and you're laughing." My feet kept moving away from him, toward the museum. It was way past time to cut my losses.

"Hey, don't be like that." Dixon followed me. "We were having fun."

Heat flooded my face. "No, you were having fun. Playing me." I should've known.

"Oh, come on." He reached after me. His fingers brushed mine. This time, his touch sent gross-out goosebumps all up my arm.

I yanked my hand away. "Stay away from me, Dixon. You're jacked up." I shot a death glare over my shoulder. "And if you tell anybody what you saw, I'll—"

"You'll what?" He crossed his arms and leaned against an SUV. "Beat me up?"

"I'll tell my mom who made that mess in quarantine."

He studied me for a second, then tilted his head like huh. "No. You won't."

I froze. He just prophesied something I hadn't even thought of yet—that there were zero possible futures where I could tell my mom I resurrected human soulshine. She would all but disown me.

Trying to hide my cold sweat, I went with a threat I knew I could back up. Maybe the only thing that would actually scare him. "I'll tell your mom."

For a split second, he had the look of a bull rider taking a tumble in the ring. But he stamped the fear out of his eyes before I could call him on it.

"Whatever." He took his phone out of his pocket, suddenly bored with me. "Go cry in the bathroom, if that's what you want."

I powered toward the museum, face down, fists clenched. Like that wasn't exactly where I was headed.

After fifteen minutes locked in the family bathroom, listening to my acoustic Calm Down playlist through my earbuds and drying my eyes with toilet paper, I could get enough air between hiccups to finally think.

What had happened back there? No idea. But I sure as heck didn't do it on purpose. It was like those bones hijacked my magic. Like they wanted to come back to life.

I wiped my nose and tried to sort through all the loose ends. Packing Peanut Zombie was taken care of, trapped inside me forever. Not gonna think about that too hard right now. I'd had enough trauma for one day.

The other one? Who knew? Wandering naked in the forest near Dinosaur Valley State Park probably. But that problem would solve itself—in fifteen minutes or less, he would run out of juice or get hit by a car or something. And when his soulshine came back to me, I'd know it. By the time Mom and I pulled back into Grandpa's driveway, that thing would be off the streets. Problem solved.

It wasn't like I'd ever summon these guys again. I'd just hold them in forever—my secret. They'd be locked up inside me, mummies in a sarcophagus. Totally harmless. And nobody would have to know.

"You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay." I locked eyes with myself in the mirror. "So there's no reason to tell Mom."

Right? Right.

I washed my face, finished the last song on my playlist, and unlocked the bathroom. Here goes. Just a regular girl on a regular day, stepping into the museum foyer after a regular pee.

Foot traffic at the Hemming had really picked up since this morning. A line of guests zigzagged to a ticket booth, and a small crowd had gathered in front of the window to the paleo lab.

I snuck into the group of guests looking at the half-prepared dinosaur bones through the glass. Luckily, it was impossible to see around the corner to the back room from here.

Mom rounded the corner and spotted me through the window.

I froze—scared she could see the trauma on my face—but she just waved for me to come inside.

When I swiped into the lab with my new keycard, I found her waiting just inside. She gave me a hug. I tried not to hang on longer than normal.

"How was your tour?" she asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it." I started to pass her, but she caught my shoulder and walked me back a couple steps.

"You look sick." She felt my forehead.

"I'm feeling kind of barfy." No lie. "I think I just need a nap."

She wrapped her arm around me. "Let's pack up your stuff and go home."

When we came into the back room, Martina and Dr. Jacobs must've noticed my face, because they both immediately asked, "Dixon?"

"Dixon." 'Nuff said.

"Thanks for taking one for the team." Dr. Jacobs got up from her office chair. "We learned a lot in fifteen minutes."

"I know it's early, but is it okay if I head home?" I asked. "I'm feeling kinda cruddy. And I think Nuke needs a break too."

"That's just fine," Dr. Jacobs said. "We have a lot to record. And good, old-fashioned fossil prep always needs doing."

Martina fidgeted with the pins on her apron. "Don't forget, you know . . ." She nudged Dr. Jacobs with her elbow. "Homework?"

Dr. Jacobs clapped her hands. "Homework!"

"Homework." I didn't like where this was going. Sure, this was a museum, but I needed my summer.

"I have to see Radiodactylus fly," Martina said, in the same tone most people would ask for an Epipen.

"But we don't want him tootling downtown and landing on top of the courthouse," Dr. Jacobs said.

Mom snapped the latches on my guitar case and slung it over her shoulder. "Or riding a thermal all the way to Cleburne."

I came so close to blowing my cover today. The idea of #livingdinosaur trending just about gave me hives.

"But if you figured out how to, y'know . . ." Dr. Jacobs cleared her throat. ". . . un-make him . . ."

"You mean withdraw him?" I asked.

"Could you try? Please?" Martina grabbed my hands like she was about to beg on her hands and knees. "I spent my entire undergrad studying the pterosaur fossils from Araripe Plateau. This would mean everything to me."

I didn't know squat about undergrad or Araripe. But she was squeezing my hands like I had backstage passes to her favorite band.

So I looked at Mom. "I mean, if it's okay for me to practice at home . . ."

A week ago, there was no way she'd let me. Not with Grandpa out of the picture. But the more I made dinosaurs, the more she would want me to be able to erase them. And it didn't hurt to have the paleo lab pleading with her to cut me some slack.

Mom made a face like there were sand burrs in her socks, then finally said, "Maybe in the barn." She pointed at me. "But you're not practicing with the pterosaur. That thing's head is like a giant pair of kitchen scissors."

Martina put her hands together like a prayer and mouthed to me, please.

I worked up the best smile I could after a day like this one. "I'll give it a shot."

We packed the guitar back into the old 4Runner, and Mom drove me home. First thing I did when we got there was stagger up to the attic, kick off my overalls, and faceplant in bed. I just wanted to burrito up in my quilt and forget Dixon ever happened to me.

After a long, quiet minute, I realized something that made my eyes snap open.

That second human soul hadn't come back to me yet.

My stomach went supernova. And when I checked the time on my phone, that supernova went black hole.

"Forty minutes?" No way. But when I checked my math, I came up with the same number. I lost that runaway soulshine forty-six minutes ago and he still hadn't timed out.

But wait—this was human soulshine. I'd never handled anything like it before. Maybe that's why my magic went out of control in the quarantine room.

Human souls probably worked differently. Why shouldn't they last longer than animals? Nothing I could do but wait it out, right?

I pulled my sheets over my head and shut my eyes tight. By the time I woke up, he'd be back. It'd be like none of this ever happened. And tomorrow, I could get back to my definition of normal life.

*

I sat in the Ford Middle School cafeteria, trying to tune out the chatter all around me as I erased a hole in my World History worksheet. My homework was due next period, but it was full of typos and backward letters. I could hardly read the instructions.

Swiping at my paper to clear some of the eraser shavings away just made the hole bigger. Nuts. How was I supposed to turn this in with a giant crater rubbed into it?

A guy with football prospect shoulders and shaggy red hair stopped near my table. He wasn't much taller than I was, but he looked about a grade above me.

He scanned the cafeteria, then looked down at his hoodie, like this was the first time he'd ever seen the raven mascot on the front.

Weird. His hoodie read Ford, and it was the right shade of blue. But last I checked we were the mustangs. Something wasn't right.

Then I noticed him shaking. He looked lost—or like he was about to seriously lose it.

"Hey." I shut my shredded homework in my World History book. "Are you new?"

He turned away. How did he not hear me? I was right next to him.

I got up and touched his arm. "Hello?"

He jerked around to face me, and my next breath caught in my throat.

There was something off about his whole look. I glanced over his deep-set blue eyes, broad nose, and sunbaked, freckly skin. But I couldn't place it. He wasn't . . . ugly. More like his features seemed too big for his face.

"Sorry." I took my hand back and glanced away before he caught me staring. "Are you okay?"

He stared at all the crowded lunch tables. "So many kids."

He didn't move his mouth, but I heard him. Everywhere. Inside.

"You think this is bad," I said. "My friend's brother graduated from Allen High School with a class of like 2,000. The ceremony took three hours."

New Kid wasn't interested. Instead, he beelined for the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a second, I thought he'd bonk into the glass, but instead he went right through.

I went over and stuck my hand through the panes. "Huh." Totally open. I stepped outside, into a field of tall, waving grass dotted with an occasional umbrella-shaped pine tree. Off to my left, the savannah turned into white sand dunes, and a little beyond that, blue ocean. Shouldn't there be a parking lot here?

A puff of wind lifted my curls. The air smelled like warm grass and sea salt.

I glanced back at the school's tan brick walls. "Ohh, hang on." I snapped my fingers. "This is a dream."

Forget this dump. I tossed my history book over my shoulder and made a break for the beach. Running through the wildflowers, I felt free enough to fly.

I rolled down one of the sand dunes, kicked off my shoes, and splashed into the cool, clear ocean.

The New Kid stood a few yards off in ankle-high surf. He looked deep in thought—so deep he didn't seem to notice his jeans were getting wet.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He looked down at his square hands. "Something bad happened." He squinted up at a cloud of crows circling in the sky, like he was struggling to remember. "Or, it will. I don't know."

"Hey, don't sweat it. None of this is real." I slapped his back. "Plus, I'm in total control. Like DiCaprio in, uh . . ." It took me a second to remember Dad's favorite movie. "Inception?"

After watching the sky for a long second, New Kid asked, "What's a DiCaprio?"

*

I jolted awake.

Red evening light glowed in the attic window. Did I sleep through the whole day?

I rested my hand on my chest and paid attention to the soulshine stored inside. Counted.

One. Two.

A chill spread from my head to my toes. It was late. Whole hours had passed.

So where was three?